


Anniversaries

by Dracoduceus



Series: Target Practice Anniversary Event [5]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Hanahaki AU, M/M, learning to be brothers again, lingering guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 04:26:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15721938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracoduceus/pseuds/Dracoduceus
Summary: Takes place after "Green With Jealousy".---“He can’tfeellove but he canknowit. Even better, he can’t feel guilt or regret. All of these things that make us experience humanity?” Hana gestured widely as if to encompass the world, a crumpled tissue in her hand. The eyeliner around one eye was smeared. “He doesn’t feel them…but somehow he knows them. He still experiences them. Like a deaf person at a concert – he can’t hear the music but he can still feel the vibrations.”





	Anniversaries

**Author's Note:**

> I should be showering and getting ready for performance but instead I'm dicking around with this. Surprise. 
> 
> Written for the Target Practice discord Anniversary event. Prompt: Anniversaries

“My student,” Zenyatta said, his voice more like a sigh.

Genji stubbornly wouldn’t look up, his face pinched as he traced the whorls of one of his master’s orbs. Another hovered just over his shoulder in an attempt to calm the discord in him.

“ _ What have I done wrong? _ ” Genji asked in Nepali, his voice nearly begging. From across the room, Hanzo and Hana both looked up. After a moment they returned to the complicated-looking puzzle spread out over most of the common room floor.

“ _ My student _ ,” Zenyatta said gently as Hana scolded Tracer for nearly Blinking into their puzzle and ruining it. “ _ Actions should not be considered right or wrong. _ ”

For the first time Genji looked up. “ _ But there must be! _ ” he exclaimed. The voices in the rest of the common room fell silent at his outburst. “ _ What do you do when your brother has no heart and he’s stringing along your best friend? _ ”

“ _ I’m not stringing him along, _ ” Hanzo said from across the room. His Nepali was choppy and slow but still clear. He turned to Hana. “Please excuse me,” he said in English and vaulted out the window. They could all hear Bastion’s surprised warble and they held their breath but there was no sound of moving parts and a gatling gun so they all breathed a sigh of relief.

Scowling, Hana turned to Genji. “Look what you’ve done,” she scolded and Genji shrank further in on himself. Sighing, she flopped over on the couch. “It’s been  _ hell _ to convince him to get out of his and McCree’s room and do something that wasn’t just going to the shooting range.”

“Why would he want to see me?” Genji asked bitterly. “All I’ve done is…” he swallowed and looked back at the orb in his hands. It was hard to think about, much less say out loud.

Hana groaned. “His heart is  _ fine _ ,” Tracer said softly. “Between Bastion and McCree they got it all set to rights. It’s a little…stumpy but it looks like it’s making a full recovery.”

They had given Bastion a clock and instructed them that every four hours they were to shoo McCree away, moving him by force if necessary. More often than not it was Hanzo that had come to take him away, at least until the two of them more or less collapsed after getting a nasty cold with symptoms of pneumonia.

During their recovery, which Angela had dragged out longer than necessary to make sure they actually ate and rested, Bastion had nursed the marigold – Hanzo’s heart – back to health. Genji didn’t dare go out to the garden to see it, not trusting himself even though he knew better now.

Privately he was afraid that if he was even in its presence the plant would die.

“Bullocks!” Lena exclaimed and ran to the window. “Where do you think he’s gone? I was supposed to make sure he was kept distracted!” she leaned out until they were all afraid that she’d fall out. Hana ran and grabbed her by the back of her shorts. “Bastion! Where did Hanzo go?”

“I’d check the cliffs,” Hana said. “He likes to hide there sometimes. Ping me on my comm if he’s there – I can reach most of his hideaways with my MEKA.”

With a salute Lena jumped out the window yelling, “Catch me, Bastion!” they all heard Bastion’s distressed warble and their thunderous steps but there was no yelp and no crash so she was probably fine. Hana poked her head out the window and gave them all a thumbs-up just to be safe.

“Distracted from what, I wonder?” Zenyatta mused into the awkward silence of the common room.

“Oh,” Hana said breezily. “It’s their anniversary. One of them. Hanzo tried to explain it to me but it’s…well it’s complicated. We can leave it at that.”

Zenyatta’s orbs spun. “Anniversary?” he asked. “How lovely!”

“Yup!” Hana grinned. “They have a lot. It’s very sweet, really. They always kept all of these dates close to their hearts even when they couldn’t feel it.”

Genji frowned. “He used to do that a lot,” he said slowly. “In Blackwatch. Arbitrary things. The day he and I met. The day he left Hanamura when…the first time he was there. The first time he went back. The day of our first mission together.”

He bent his head in thought. How often had McCree told him that he didn’t have much in the way of physical possessions? Genji was a little embarrassed that it took so long to figure out that McCree kept things that couldn’t be taken from him.

“That’s sweet,” Zenyatta said. “Do you know what today’s is?”

Hana shrugged. “I think he said it was ‘first kiss’ but it could also be the anniversary of them meeting again.”

“No,” Genji realized, checking the date on his comm. “I think…” the date matched up but why…?

“What?” Hana demanded. “What is it?”

Genji rubbed his chin. “It…it might be the day that they separated,” he said slowly. “When Blackwatch left Hanamura after they met.”

* * *

“You speak Nepali?” Genji asked Hana as they walked to the hangar toward her MEKA.

Hana rubbed the back of her head, strangely bashful. “Hanzo thought that you might be less upset by him if you could speak to him comfortably,” she admitted. “He needed someone to practice with so…”

“So you thought that Nepali would…what?” Genji took a deep breath. There was no use getting mad at Hana.

“He might not be able to feel emotions,” Hana said a little stiffly. It sounded like a rebuke and Genji looked away, feeling doubly silly for being scolded so vehemently by someone ten years younger than him. “But he can still recognize it in others. He sees how uncomfortable you are with him and if he could he’d be a mess. You know him; you  _ know _ I’m right.”

Genji looked away. He didn’t know, actually. Hanzo had always been good at hiding himself.

“Honestly,” Hana said with a low huff. “He…he just wants you to be happy and it’s…I don’t know,  _ distressing  _ to him that he makes you so uncomfortable. So he’s trying. He’s trying  _ really hard _ and learning Nepali was one of the less-weird ideas he came up with.”

She realized that he was no longer with her and turned. “He’s not angry with me?” Genji blurted.

Hana frowned. “Why would he be?”

“ _ I killed his heart! _ ” Genji snapped louder than he meant to. His voice echoed in the hangar, high with a hint of hysteria and the guilt that had been eating away at him.

There was a rustle up above and Genji looked up. It was only one of Brigitte’s cats, a fluffy white creature with a face that looked like it had run head-first into a wall.

“But you didn’t,” Hana said gently. “Bastion and McCree put it back together – you heard Lena. And even if it had died, what connection does he have left? He  _ can’t _ be angry.”

Genji looked away and continued walking. Hana kept pace with him until he was ready to talk again. “What did he mean that he wasn’t stringing McCree along?” he asked. “He did that before, you know. Their breakup was messy.”

“They’re together,” Hana replied with a shrug. “Isn’t that enough?”

“But he can’t love,” Genji protested. “He can’t feel anything.”

Hana stopped, holding her hands clasped in front of her as if in prayer. “Okay,” she said very seriously. “I don’t even know where to begin with this. You and I need to go to Ange.” She grabbed his arm despite his protests and tugged him along. “Ange, I need one of those brochures, stat,” she said. She turned to Genji. “Sit.”

Yawning, Angela stood and reached in one of her file holders for a too-colorful brochure. The design was archaic, looking like something more belonging on the cover of an airport romance novel than an informative brochure. The silhouette of a couple walked hand-in-hand down a path lit by the setting sun; a trail of rose petals red as blood followed them. In pink cursive it read,  _ Hanahaki and You _ .

“I don’t need this,” Genji protested.

Impatient, Hana unfolded the brochure, which turned out to be much larger than Genji had originally anticipated. “It’s been three months,” Angela said, her forehead wrinkling as she frowned in confusion. “You haven’t read this, Genji? I thought that I had provided everyone with a copy.”

Genji knew exactly where his copy was…well, he knew exactly where he had seen it last. At this point the water had probably dissolved the brochure into nothingness and if not the brisk waves against the cliff had washed it away. He didn’t say any of this out loud, though.

“I am still looking for another copy,” Angela continued, not noticing or not caring about his inattention. “Dr. O’Deorain had a much better one that she made herself. But I suppose we’re well past that stage.”

Hana made a triumphant noise and shoved the brochure back into Genji’s hands, jabbing a finger at one of the paragraphs. “Read  _ this _ ,” she said, jabbing her finger into the page.

Though she didn’t ask him to, he read it out loud. “ _ Though your friend or loved one can no longer  _ feel _ , they are still capable of recognizing emotion. They are also capable of ‘feeling’ through action. For them love is no longer an emotion but something they can do and that is how they show their affection. _ ” He looked up.

“Hanzo is trying,” Hana told him softly. “He doesn’t doubt that he cares about you because that is an emotion that he can’t feel. Doubt, I mean. Thing is, this whole  _ he doesn’t love me anymore _ thing? That’s all on you. Hanzo  _ knows _ he loves you even if he can’t feel it…you just don’t have any way to justify it to yourself.”

Genji looked up at Hana and found that her face was flushed, her lips pulled downward into a frown. She scrubbed her face and dabbed at her eyes. Without looking up from her report, Angela offered her a box of tissues.

“He can’t  _ feel _ love but he can  _ know  _ it. Even better, he can’t feel guilt or regret. All of these things that make us experience humanity?” Hana gestured widely as if to encompass the world, a crumpled tissue in her hand. The eyeliner around one eye was smeared. “He doesn’t feel them…but somehow he knows them. He still experiences them. Like a deaf person at a concert – he can’t hear the music but he can still feel the vibrations.”

Angela looked up. “One of the things we recommend is that before they are Cut, to go through and find every holiday that means something to them and write it down,” she said. “Birthdays, religious holidays – whether they celebrate that particular religion or not. Major milestones of graduating or a first kiss or a first date. We tell them to write down everything because now feelings are shown through action.”

“You should see Hanzo and McCree’s room,” Hana said quietly, her voice wobbly. “Their calendar is full so they drew one on the walls – it takes up the whole space. They have shelves full of stupid little knick-knacks.”

“Attaching an emotion to an object,” Angela added. “Or a date.”

Hana sniffed. “There are whole scrapbooks they both keep. Pictures, video files, notes. We all have a book so they can remember. They keep journals.” She trailed off and flopped down into the seat next to Genji. “He still loves you, you know?”

Very carefully Genji folded the brochure again. It took a few tries to get it to sit right and then he tucked it into the wide pocket of his hoodie. “Thank you,” he said quietly and left.

* * *

That night he walked into an unused common area in the basement of the base and heard music. Dimming his running lights he crept along on silent feet, a few  _ shuriken _ cycling into his hand as he approached the next bend where he could see soft pink lights.

“ _ I can’t believe you did all of this for me _ .” That was Hanzo, his dead-sounding voice sending shivers down Genji’s spine. Somehow it sounded even worse in Japanese.

“ _ Of course I did, _ ” McCree replied in the same language. There was a wet smacking sound; they kissed. “ _ I love you. _ ”

Hanzo’s laugh sounded empty. “ _ You can’t _ .” Despite the lack of emotion it seemed almost teasing. “ _ Neither of us can. _ ”

“ _ You know what I mean. _ ”

Genji peered around the corner into the room and found McCree and his brother together, rocking slowly to the soft music. Hanzo had his left arm around McCree’s shoulders and McCree’s rested around Hanzo’s waist; McCree brought Hanzo’s right hand, clasped gently in his left, to press a kiss to the knuckles. Neither of them seemed to notice him peeking through the doorway, Hanzo’s head pressed into McCree’s neck and McCree’s eyes closed as they swayed together.

_ Tempura _ and ramen,  _ donburi _ bowls and a few others he couldn’t make out were spread out on the table. There was a large card with blocky handwriting that Genji recognized as McCree’s:  _ Happy “I’m Sorry I Ever Left You” Anniversary _ .

“ _ Te amo _ ,” Hanzo said in Spanish. It sounded wrong without emotion. “Happy anniversary.”

Genji left as they leaned closer for a soft kiss.

* * *

Naked save for a pair of thin boxers that were slowly sliding down his hips, Hanzo opened the door.

Genji blinked and then tilted his head up. “ _ I did  _ not _ need to see that, _ ” he whined in Japanese.

“ _ I will grab a shirt, _ ” Hanzo replied smoothly in the same language. “ _ Would you like to come in? _ ”

“ _ Yes _ ,” Genji said, dramatically holding his hands over his eyes. “ _ I would, actually. I want to see how angry you get when I can still beat you at video games. _ ” He held up the bag in his hand, some of the cords dangling from it like the tentacles of some kind of strange cephalopod. The bag rattled as he gestured over his shoulder to Zenyatta who closed the door behind them. “ _ I brought Zen as a witness. _ ”

“ _ Good morning, Hanzo _ ,” Zenyatta said. His voice seemed different when he spoke in Japanese. More than once Genji had asked if he modulated or changed his vocals for different languages but Zenyatta had never given him a straight answer. “ _ Good morning, McCree _ .”

Genji lowered his arm only to yell and cover his eyes again. Hanzo at least had pulled on a pair of boxers, even if it had drooped horrifically low on his hips; McCree was still naked as he yawned in the doorway to their shared room.

“Mornin’,” he said without a lick of shame. “Genji. Zen.”

Zenyatta waved, seemingly not at all bothered by the other man’s nudity. “Greetings.”

“Come on,” Genji complained. “You two, put some clothes on and I’ll kick your asses at video games.”

McCree snorted but he heard their feet walk into the room and lowered his hand. While they were gone, Zenyatta gently looped his thin arms around Genji’s waist. He modulated his voice so that it was barely louder than the gentle whir of his own systems. “ _ I’m proud of you _ ,” he said in Nepali.

The two of them came back, fully dressed or mostly. McCree was pulling his shirt down over his head and Genji could see the ropy scar across his chest like the parody of a Christian cross. He forced himself not to stare and smirked instead.

“You ready to get your ass kicked?” Genji demanded.

“C’mon, Zen,” McCree said with a laugh. “I think we got some stuff in here to make pancakes. Why don’t you give me a hand?”

Hanzo laughed hollowly. “We shall see,” he said. “You’d never been able to beat me. I don’t see why now would be any different.”

“I’m going to make you eat your words.” Genji looked at the walls. As Hana had said, there were hundreds of cards taped to the walls, enough that they looked like some kind of wallpaper. And again as Hana had said, he saw that they were loosely formed into some kind of date order. He found the current date and tapped it with a finger. “You’re gonna add ‘Lost at Video Games to Genji’ right here.”

Shaking his head Hanzo seemed…pleased…as he turned the screen on. “We shall see,” he repeated.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who's read and enjoyed this series. It really means a lot to me to see your comments and kudos. 
> 
> Thank you!
> 
> ~DC


End file.
